


superglued human of proof.

by toffeelemon



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Getting Together, HaruMichi, High School, Space Gays, anime timeline, annoyingly cute teenage lesbians, appropriated japanese words, comedy if you squint, filling in the blanks, inaccurate probably, michiharu, sailor moon crystal is my only guide, some blood eek, tf is their ship name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 03:49:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10608687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toffeelemon/pseuds/toffeelemon
Summary: How Michiru and Haruka got together, before they were Sailor Neptune and Sailor Uranus.In which Haruka is prone to escaping, Michiru is playing tug of war between reasoning and her heart, and both just want a simple high school romance.title from dodie's sick of losing soulmates.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i've only watched sailor moon crystal and some clips so don't kill me for canon non-compliance!! i'm just a lovesick girl-loving girl who wants release in writing fem/fem ships! unbeta-ed and not proofread and this is my first f/f please be gentle :3

Michiru fiercely missed being 13, when she was just one of the rare freshmen in junior high who had her shit together academically, had hit puberty and had bands of boys (and tomboys) chasing her right and left.

She pondered that maybe being 14 wasn’t that bad, if she were just any other 14 year old, instead of being Kaiou Michiru, who was bound to be stuck in unfortunate positions by fate. Currently, she was cornered in a dingy garage, frowning at the stubborn creature who was throwing a tantrum, and oh, a Daimon was in the other corner clawing at them too. Michiru sighed as Tenoh Haruka attempted to lecture her on her morality, screaming whilst another blow was delivered from the tip of her gloved fingers, most likely to ignore the moral dilemma of her own. Michiru wished that if that fiery, thick headed girl could just shut up, she was rather distracting in more ways than one. Other than totally missing the danger of the Daimon wavering around less than a feet away from the two of them, Haruka was also sporting a V-neck T-shirt underneath the racing suit which was discarded earlier, doing a good job at highlighting the dip of her collarbones and the sharp jawline that complimented the curve of her neck. Sailor Neptune really should tear her eyes away from ogling a certain teen idol as soon as possible if she wanted her life spared alone, needless to say the blonde idiot before her as well. 

Michiru sure did miss the short lived days of being just another crazed eyed teenager merely weeks ago, collecting photos of Haruka at track meets. Much talked about high school idols slash car racing prodigies were often better in the distance, before Michiru spoke to her for the first time and got brutally rejected, but somehow the girl was slightly relieved to know that Tenoh Haruka was quite the coward like she once was too, especially now that she was sure the other was the sailor senshi destined to fight with her. Michiru thought herself of having quite the strong and prematurely tortured soul, especially after been forced to face the fate of saving the universe all by herself, when she was still a sheltered crybaby who was easily confused and had never came across any hardships. After the past year of being a sailor senshi, all the whilst trying to figure out what was the purpose behind her existence and fighting her feeble part as a small individual in a Tokyo high school, Kaiou Michiru was fairly confident that she could take on anything that crossed her path. Nonetheless, she was tired. Tired of being alone, one tiny teenager who had to ward off the unending evil in the cosmos, and tired of living this double life. If only there was someone else out there who could take the weight of the universe off her shoulders. 

She’s the one. Michiru still remembered the time when she backtracked her steps quite unflatteringly, almost tripping over herself in the process, when she first caught a glimpse Haruka’s face on the cover of a magazine in a convenience shop window. Michiru had always had an extraordinary visual memory, the talent that made her an artist probably; and her past life visions were rarely the easiest things to forget anyways. The days before her first transformation seemed like a hazy daydream in a distance now, and there was not much to recall from that time other than the recurring nightmare, always of the same events: the world collapsing, the cold and dark universe that surrounded her, and death’s call. Something new came into view after a while, the image of another senshi keeping her company in the face of destruction. Michiru could recognise that steely grey gaze anywhere, they haunted her dreams every night and plagued her thoughts by day. If not, Michiru could always revisit her sketchbook which was a vivid rendition of all her visions, in which the mystery person had already featured several times.

That dodgy magazine about high school sport leagues had costed her 300 yen, and yet more was spent on miscellaneous Tenoh Haruka memorabilia (not that Michiru couldn’t afford them, she did more than enough art commissions to sustain herself now). In the span of two months, the girl had learnt possibly everything she could about the track star; from the high school that she went to (where Michiru had to refrain herself from stalking), to the rising motorsport dark horse's favourite car. Destined fellow sailor senshi or not, Michiru enjoyed being her age again, as a fangirl who sneaked to track meets just to furiously sketch the silhouette of a certain record holder. If Michiru were normal like everyone else, she’d have followed the entourage of screaming school girls to shove their numbers at Haruka already. Maybe, if she never transformed into Sailor Neptune, she would’ve had a shot at dating Tenoh Haruka, she outrageously wondered. But Michiru could only daydream for so long. She knew right away when they wordlessly had a stare down, with poor Elsa the wing woman being horribly confused. There was an unmissable flash of recognition as Tenoh Haruka met Michiru’s gaze, but disappointingly Sailor Neptune was rejected nonetheless. She had never been so frustrated in her life.

Haruka didn’t want to face the responsibility, which was understandable, but massively annoying. Michiru couldn’t help but feel rather threatened; she had never been flustered by a date turning up late, boy or girl, and Tenoh Haruka just trampled all over her comfort zone by stepping in halfway into her concerto. To be fair, Haruka wasn’t really a date, and by the looks of it, they might not even fight together after all. All these little inconveniences nagging away at Michiru’s mind slowly turned her into a raging ball of bursting repressed tension. All she wanted was to be a violinist, she argued, and tears were running down her cheeks as Haruka yet again ran away, both literally and figuratively. Michiru’s outburst sounded foreign in her ears; she had long accepted her fate, when she took up that wand, and expected nothing more but a wretched destiny. So why was she suddenly so upset when a beacon of hope which was just almost out of grasp, the hope of change and no longer being alone, appeared in the name of Tenoh Haruka?

Their last meeting ended bitterly and it seemed that Haruka was still determined to continue the argument, despite the Daimon very much remained undefeated and threatening to Sailor Neptune, herself and the poor student unconscious on the ground. The superhuman stamina did have disadvantages when it was gifted to a certain stubborn airhead. When Michiru transformed, she felt stronger, more determined, and perhaps even more ruthless than her civilian self who was already nicknamed ice queen for her coldness. Haruka could cry murder all she wanted, but Sailor Neptune never had doubts when it came to quenching evil. Every attack was a clean cut, every dodge an elegant step in a dance, Michiru rarely made mistakes anymore and wore her battle scars proud.

Well, there was one mistake. Not shutting Tenoh Haruka up before she got in the way. Before thinking better of it, Sailor Neptune turned her back to the enemy - a move that could be fatal - all to shield Haruka from the attack. The claws of a Daimon burned. But before Michiru could black out, she calmly aimed a deadly Deep Submerge to take care of it - she wouldn’t want her pain to be in vain, now that she had already taken the hit for the idiot. Her arms around Haruka slowly went slack as the taller girl finally came to her senses to catch the falling soldier, although still ridden with shock at the possibility of this frail, spoilt pretty girl with the ability to kill. Tenoh Haruka had a handful of girls chasing after her, but this was the first time one tried to lay down her life for her, so this was a special occasion to get unusually startled.

When Daimon poison slowly seeped into the bloodstream, the garage looked purple, Haruka’s eyes were bluer than ever and Michiru felt hazy and frozen, the press of the warm arms cushioning her fall almost burning her. Haruka was calling her name, she looked almost surprised that someone would protect her even being mercilessly yelled at seconds before. Michiru offered a weak laugh but was quickly stifled by a panicked Haruka when she winced. Once the adrenaline wore off, weeks of mental fatigue translated into physical strain instantly and Michiru had an urge to just fall asleep right away. Dying dramatically in Tenoh Haruka’s arms didn’t sound all that bad, especially under the influence of Daimon poison. The usually suave teen idol was out of her depths though, panicking out of her way to keep Michiru awake, who gladly complied by babbling her guarded secrets away. Haruka might look like a general asshole on the outside, but she was far away from letting Kaiou Michiru actually die in her hands. The guilt was unimaginable, not only because she had traded her safety for Haruka’s, but also how situations like this might have been avoided if only Haruka had agreed to fight alongside Sailor Neptune sooner. She might have attempted to take the higher moral ground (although thank god - the monster disappeared with the possessed human still intact), but by running away from her powers and responsibilities, Haruka was merely unknowingly putting more people in unnecessary danger. It seemed that she was close to making her mind up.

Listening to all that chatter from a barely conscious sailor senshi, having to handle little complicated emotions all at once, it was making Haruka’s airhead ache. It was with delayed notion that she remembered someone had giant gushes on her back and staying put in a garage probably didn’t do much to the bleeding. Michiru only had barely enough strength to remind Haruka that turning up at a hospital like this was dead suspicious, as she was gently lifted and settled on the passenger seat of Tenoh Haruka’s convertible. Michiru hadn’t transformed back ever since, not that she had the willpower to (and she was wearing a cute outfit that she didn’t want to get ruined by blood, okay), so Haruka threw her racing jacket over the curled up girl before she attracted more attention in a flashy sailor suit.

Ridden with guilt, Haruka had blatantly ignored Michiru’s instructions to her own home where she will unconvincingly tend to herself, and the underaged driver flew across the highway by the sea to some unknown location. Michiru had dreamt of taking a car ride with Tenoh Haruka by the sea, although with very different circumstances in mind than they were in now; and definitely not getting warm blood over expensive car seat leather. Her blood was spilled over Tenoh Haruka’s car and racing jacket, oh lord, the lovesick 14 year old in her was crying hysterically. Kaiou Michiru was more or less in shock, almost comparable to the first time she killed (in her defence she never killed with an audience, and certainly not her crush), and the soothing lullaby of the sea barely calmed her.

Tenoh Haruka’s home was a small semi-detached house by the seafront which she shared with her older half brother. Michiru could only aspire to be as independent as a high school student, she commented offhandedly, but Haruka only retaliated by mentioning Sailor Neptune’s solitary battles in the past year. The girl involuntarily smiled in victory, Tenoh Haruka was finally giving her some credit more than just being a spoilt and overpowered little girl. Despite her weak protests, Michiru was chivalrously carried up the stairs and settled on what alarmingly seemed to be Haruka’s bed. She would rather die than get blood on here too. Michiru curled into herself, settling her head on her bent knees tiredly as she was tempted into unconsciousness once more. The three lashes on her back had since dried up, the stretchy fabric uncomfortably pulling at her skin. Michiru figured that if she just laid here unattended to for hours, eventually her wounds would heal (she did have superhuman senshi healing rate, after all), which sounded like a really good idea at the moment. 

“Come on, don’t fall asleep now,” Haruka said teasingly, doing a poor job of hiding the tremor in her voice, as if Michiru could die on her any second. Michiru was only startled awake when her sailor suit was mercilessly cut open along the seams at the side, her skin suddenly touched by chill air. It seemed that the responsibility-ridden Tenoh Haruka took it upon herself to utilise what little first aid knowledge she had, abandoning all personal boundaries in the process as she carefully peeled the blood soaked fabric off to reveal long, angry lashes across Michiru’s otherwise delicate skin. Embarrassed, she hid in her long locks as she winced into her elbow, voice slightly above a whisper as she tried to lighten up the mood. “Tenoh Haruka, already undressing a girl in your bed after two meetings? How scandalous.” The barely visible blush on the usual flirt’s cheeks was priceless.

Michiru attempted to appear nonchalant in the moments afterwards, to avoid the cycle of guilt circulating in the room (guilt tripping Tenoh Haruka was fun for a while, before it backfired), but nonetheless she couldn't hold back a whimper or two as Haruka gently dabbed sterilising alcohol over her cuts. For someone who was known for sweet talking girls, the teen idol sure did not have a lot except for sorry in her vocabulary right now. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence that a beautiful stranger took a near fatal blow in place of you, and Haruka was never the best at expressing any emotions other than playful confidence. Initially, making her feel bad and sympathise with the sailor senshi destiny had been Michiru’s goal, but the more she thought about the burning claw marks on her back right now, and how horrified and scared Haruka had been, Michiru couldn’t help but blurt out a new opinion.

“When the time comes, don’t pick up that wand,” Haruka stopped in her tracks immediately in confusion, before Michiru cleared her statement with an uncommitted wave of her own transformation wand. Tenoh Haruka didn’t utter a word, only resumed her actions in bandaging the violinist’s supposedly precious arm. “I’ve already made my choice, but you still have a chance,” Michiru sighed wistfully as she rested her other cheek on her forearm, not willing to move a muscle in case she pulled the wounds on her back open again. “Please don’t end up like me, you still have a bright future ahead of you, Tenoh Haruka.” Michiru’s smile didn’t reach her eyes, which were still a deep ocean as always, grave and inexplicably solemn. 

Haruka only blinked at the grave advice, staring at Michiru’s bandaged arm and bare back, before seemingly realising for the first time that Kaiou Michiru was very much half naked on her bed, when the distraction of the crisis fled her. She stood up abruptly to bow politely in delayed apology. “Sorry for ruining your suit, I’ll grab something for you to put on right away!” Haruka didn’t even allow Michiru to laugh lightheartedly and explain that her sailor suit will renew itself the next time she transformed again, having already taken off and fled the room. A warm smile lingered on Michiru’s face as she leaned into her own embrace, watching a flustered Haruka leave the room. Releasing so much emotional burden at one go, added with the physical exertion earlier in the day, Michiru was ready to doze off for real this time round, as she fluttered her eyes close. 

Haruka froze at the sight of Michiru, blood naturally finding their way to her cheeks as she tried to pull her eyes away from the frail girl soundly asleep on her bed, with her smooth back and slim waist entirely in view. This was a totally unexpected side of Kaiou Michiru, vulnerable and soft unlike the brave Sailor Neptune, tired and no longer defensive and defiant as the spoiled brat she lived as in school. Although she had explicitly pleaded otherwise, Haruka still felt an overwhelming urge to protect Michiru from any more scars she had to bear on her too delicate skin, to take on the world with her together. The girl curling into herself, with the flowing hair and gentle curves, she never deserved this life. Haruka might not have too, but she could only do her best to stop being selfish and work to protect those that she could too.

“Kaiou-san, you better put this on,” Tenoh Haruka’s voice was uncharacteristically soft as she patted the girl awake, shoving a spare T-shirt at her as she yawned. “Ah, Haruka-chan,” Michiru winked sluggishly as she made fun of the stiff address she was greeted with, giggled as any other adorable high school girl would before pulling the T-shirt on, undressing out of her sailor suit in the process. Haruka instinctively turned her head away, feeling confusingly flustered as Michiru only chuckled in understanding, all whilst flicking her hair in a suave manner. Tenoh Haruka was normally the confident playboy in charge, but with Kaiou Michiru, the roles seemed to have reversed. Admittedly, she was unfairly beautiful, with her figure and personality screaming elegance to everyone else around her and eyes the colour of a thousand lakes and oceans. Haruka figured that she would probably be whipped for Michiru, if they had met in other circumstances. Was she still willing to take the plunge into such a deep dive for Sailor Neptune?

“Thank you again for saving my life,” Haruka smirked into the pale crook of Michiru’s neck, as she was the one in turn to be startled this time round, with Haruka’s lean arms trapping her waist from behind. She took a sharp intake of breath as Haruka purposely sighed next to the lope of her ear, effortlessly manoeuvring out of the embrace as a composed smile made its way onto her cheeks again. They were having a dance of tango with winks and wicked smirks, and Michiru, as she would hate to admit, was almost as stubborn as Tenoh Haruka and determined to not lose. “I probably can’t go home like this right now, do you mind if I stay?” Michiru’s eyes betrayed her apparent bashfulness, a challenging glint sparkling under those oh-so innocent lashes. Haruka’s heart did a double take. This girl was going to be the death of her, destined fighting partners or not. “Of course not! I’ll go make up my brother’s bed for you,” she ran out of the room before she could catch any more of Michiru’s offending acts of affection. 

The other bed in the apartment was very creaky. Haruka had been pacing around the small house into the early hours of the morning, making aimless trips to the refrigerator in the living room, after giving up on sleep barely after midnight. This was expected, after the shock of the day’s events finally catching up with the sailor senshi who had always been ignoring the underlying evil in the cosmos, but she was surprised to find that Michiru wasn’t sleeping well too. Haruka carefully treaded to the other room, peeking in to find her guest staring back at her with big and round eyes. Michiru’s round pupils were blown wide in the dark, and Haruka felt as if she’d been pulled in. “I’m sorry if the bed isn’t very comfortable,” she said awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck as Michiru distracted herself over Haruka’s strained abs under the tank top. “No, no, I’m sorry,” the girl sighed heavily as she rolled over onto her back, turning away from Haruka. For someone who was so young and well off (except for the whole sailor senshi ordeal), she always seemed to be so troubled and spoken words too heavy to bear. Haruka was confused. “I should be the one to be sorry! You saved my stubborn ass, right?” 

Michiru sat up in her bed abruptly, wincing in the process; Haruka couldn’t help but immediately moving further into the room. “Haruka-san, correct me if I’m wrong, but we were flirting earlier, right?” Both of their expressions were obscured in the dark, and Haruka was glad that Michiru couldn’t see her furious blush, or the offending thought of how she was caught glancing at Michiru’s exposed legs under the oversized T-shirt earlier. She gulped and braved through the situation. “I wouldn’t be Tenoh Haruka if you hadn’t noticed, eh? I thought that was obvious.” The silence was suffocating, and Haruka almost debated running out of the room and blame it on sleepwalking or something equally lame. 

“I shouldn’t have stayed the night, I’m sorry,” Michiru hung her head low as she spoke evenly. “I wasn’t lying about wanting to be by your side just as a normal girl on a car ride with you, Haruka, but I know we could never happen, and you’re better off without this life haunting you, and yet, I…” Kaiou Michiru had yelled, whimpered, and cried angrily in front of her before. But never did she speak so defeatedly, as if she was actually as frail as she looked (which Haruka knew was hardly the case), and had already shattered. “I’m being selfish. I keep telling you to run away, before destiny catches you, and yet, I’m so scared of being alone. I want you to be by my side!” Michiru weakly struggled against Haruka’s hand catching hers, fighting a dilemma that had no pleasant resolution either way. 

“Then I will be by your side,” Michiru froze in Haruka’s arms, before leaning into her wide shoulder and sobbing just a bit more. For just a bit more, she could stop being strong and brave. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, not conveying the rest. There were too much to apologise for. For being confusing, for being a nuisance, for dragging a perfectly well lived girl into this painful way of living. “Don’t be, I’m being selfish too. I want to just go on a car ride by the sea with you as well, saving the world or not, Michiru.” Haruka’s genuine, non cocky smile should be something that was framed in a gallery. Michiru would eventually draw it in her sketchbook, add it to the collection of Haruka sketches she owned, but for tonight, she was too busy tracing the lines of Tenoh Haruka with soft kisses and touches. Michiru was no longer alone.


End file.
